Kristmas Collins (23 page)

“Maybe if you let us off right now, I’ll try to forget this ever happened. You can’t just abduct an international superstar in broad daylight and expect to get away with it!”

He laughed condescendingly. “But if I recall, your ascent has always been star-crossed. So no one will be surprised when you turn up in the next couple days, dead of a drug overdose … especially after your erratic behavior at that charity event last night.”

“You’re going to have to go through me to get to her,” Alyson challenged.

He appeared amused. “How fascinating—two mortal enemies teaming up in the name of survival. But why do I think it has more to do with your mutual loyalty toward Kris Collins?”

When nobody answered, Gooch continued, “I was sent to provide a test, and now is the time. Here are the rules—the first one to prove their loyalty to me, by telling where the treasure is, will get to live. Simple, no?”

Nobody moved a muscle. Alyson was surprised that Candi didn’t blare out the location and offer to drive Gooch to it.

He stared out the front window of the cab, seemingly unaffected by the lack of action. “Take your time—it looks like we’ll be sitting here for a while. They call me the magician, but even I can’t find a way to make Manhattan traffic disappear during the holidays.”

The cab continued to stop and start in the bumper-to-bumper traffic, and Gooch became distracted. Alyson noticed that he had zeroed in on an SUV that was turning on Fifth Avenue. Maybe too much so.

“Look out!” Alyson shouted out, and the normally in-control Gooch slammed on the brakes. They stopped just short of the military vehicle that had come to a stop in front of them. When Alyson looked closer, it wasn’t just one military vehicle in front of them—they were surrounded by them.

Without a word, Gooch stepped out of the vehicle and casually walked away, leaving them parked in the middle of the busy street. He melded into the crowds of Herald Square, before disappearing. Alyson’s first thought was that he was spooked by the military presence surrounding the cab, but something told her that it had more to do with that SUV he’d been focusing on. She wished she’d gotten a better look at it, wondering what the connection was.

When they stepped out of the cab, a friendly face greeted Alyson.

“Rudi?” said Sergeant Cherry, whom she had served with.

Alyson was equally surprised to see her. “What are you doing here, Sergeant? Is Manhattan under siege?”

They shook hands. “We have orders to escort a Ms. Candi Kane and her guests to the military transport plane that will take them to Afghanistan. We were supposed to pick them up curbside, but when we saw you leave the area, we followed. We assumed there had been a breakdown in communication.”

Candi flashed another “I told you so” look as she strutted toward the military vehicle. As she neared the Jeep, Candi pirouetted on her expensive heels. She looked back to Hope, who was still shaking from the experience. “Are you coming, or what?”

Hope looked to her mother, who nodded that she should follow Candi. “Go follow your dreams, baby.”

Tears began streaming down Hope’s face. She wrapped her arms around her mother and they held on to each other for what seemed like minutes. It reminded Alyson of how much she missed Robbie.

They broke the embrace and Hope practically skipped toward the Jeep. But Candi never took her eyes off of Marilyn Roberts. “What about you?”

She pointed at herself, as if confused. “Me?”

“What do you say we go visit that husband of yours on the other side of the world? You’ll be my guest.”

She looked overwhelmed, and froze. So Candi took her hand and led her to the vehicle.

Alyson figured she must be in some sort of dream sequence, because she couldn’t believe what she’d just seen. What was next—Ebeneezer Scrooge helping an old lady across the street?

“So you got any plans for Christmas Eve, Rudi?” Sergeant Cherry interrupted her thought.

“Robbie is spending the holiday with Herm, so I’m going to be heading up to Vermont.”

“Sounds like a good time.”

“It’s more like a business trip.”

“How you getting there? Train?”

“No—helicopter. I do some private flying work on the side. Got it parked over at the East 34th Street Heliport.”

Sergeant Cherry laughed. “Sounds like you can take the girl out of the army, but you can’t take the army out of the girl. You want a lift to the heliport, soldier?”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll walk. I can use the fresh air,” she replied, thinking that the army was less dangerous.

She made it safely to the heliport, but still did a double check for Gooch when she climbed into the pilot’s seat. He wasn’t waiting for her, but an envelope was. When she opened it her heart filled with joy. It was a hand drawn picture of Alyson flying a helicopter with Santa’s reindeer pulling it through the air.
Merry Christmas, Mom. I miss you. Love you, Robbie.

But how did he …

Her thoughts immediately went from jubilation to horror. Had one of Scroggie’s people gotten hold of him? But then she found another note, and this one put her at ease.

Rudi,

Robbie wanted you to have this picture he drew for you, and since I can’t say no to our son, I made a trip to the city to deliver it before Christmas. We will miss you this year—it’s not the same without you.

Herm

PS. I left your gift in the luggage compartment. Be careful, it’s fragile
.

Agent Falcone stood in the cramped security room inside Penn Station. He was flanked by NYPD officers Parillo and Mendoza, and a DOT official named Lipper.

They were viewing the security video of Kris Collins boarding the “Vermonter” with Nicole Closs and her two children.

“We stopped the train in Stamford. Searched the thing three times—no sign of them,” Parillo said.

“There was no place to get off between Penn Station and Stamford,” Mendoza added.

“That’s because they weren’t on the train,” Falcone responded angrily, and froze the video. “There!”

It showed Collins and the others getting off the train before it ever left the station. They didn’t pick it up at first because the escape was partially hidden by a military man with a large knapsack that was shielding them from the camera.

Mendoza shrugged. “I guess we missed it.”

“You guess you missed it?” Falcone was about to blow his top, but regained his composure—now was not the time to set off any alarms.

“So what do you want us to do with the train?” Parillo asked.

“If our suspects aren’t on it, there is no reason to keep those people from their ski trip any longer. Let them proceed.”

“But what about Zee Thomas? It can’t be a coincidence that he was driving the train that Collins used for his escape—those two are tied at the hip.”

Falcone was well aware of this—of course it was connected. But he needed for Zee to get to Vermont and get him the information by using the wire, so he needed to divert the subject matter.

“Now you’re gonna tell me how to run my operation, Officer Parillo? Where were you two when we put out the APB? We had all the subway entrances guarded, and they were trapped in a mall for God-sake … how the hell did they escape!?”

“There is evidence that they used the old Gimbels Passageway,” Mendoza stated.

Falcone stared at the DOT official, Lipper. “And how would they get in there? That rat-trap has been closed down since the 1980s.”

“There are a few people who have access to it. It’s a small list, so it should be a quick investigation.”

“I got a kidnapper on the loose and you’re talking about investigations? Are you for real!?”

“We have a video from the JCPenney store in the Manhattan Mall, which has access to the subway line … and the passageway. It shows Collins talking to a man. I bet we learn that he was the one assisting them.”

Falcone didn’t doubt it, or even that the military man shielding him off the train might not have been a coincidence. He sighed deeply. “Let’s face facts—Collins is long gone.”

“We will put out an alert. His face, and the woman’s, will be splashed over every TV station in the city. And we’ll block all entrances to bridges and tunnels. We should have them in custody by Christmas Eve dinner,” Parillo said confidently.

A little too confidently for Falcone. The last thing he needed was to disrupt what Collins and his crew had planned for tonight. He had to come up with some way to stop an alert from going out.

Falcone’s phone vibrated—an incoming text. It was from Macy’s security, letting him know that Duma’s lawyer had arrived.

“I guess I was wrong,” Falcone said, as he read the text.

“What do you mean?” Mendoza asked.

“I said Collins was long gone, but I was just informed that he was apprehended on Fifth Avenue. The woman and her children are safely in police custody. I need to get over there right away to question them.”

“That’s a nice Christmas present,” the DOT official said, and Falcone agreed. They shook hands out of professional courtesy, and he was off.

It looked like he’d be spending his Christmas Eve in Vermont—everything in this case went back to the ranch in Vermont, and he was sure that was where Collins was right now. As was the money, which Zee Thomas was going to help deliver to him.

The bad news was that he now had to call his wife and inform her that he wouldn’t be home tonight. When her yelling stopped, he promised that he would make it up to her by taking her out to the finest restaurant in the city on New Year’s Eve. When the call ended, he was standing right in front of the 34th Street entrance to Macy’s, with the large
Believe
sign staring back at him. He got the feeling that she didn’t.

The first person Libby saw when she walked into the room was Agent Boersch, dressed as an elf. She thought it was fitting.

Her eyes moved to the holding cell where Justin Duma was sitting on a bench with Franny and Zooey. She looked back at Boersch, as mad as she remembered ever being. “You put my children in jail!?”

Boersch shrugged. “It’s not jail—it’s a detention center where Macy’s holds its shoplifters until they turn them over to the authorities.”

“And my children stole merchandise?”

“No, but your client took something that didn’t belong to him, and since he claimed to be babysitting your children, we thought it was best to keep them here until their mother arrived.”

“Where is Agent Falcone?”

“He is making his way back from Penn Station. He’s trying to track down a kidnapper—your ex-husband.”

“I need to talk to my clients alone.”

When Boersch opened the barred door of the cell, Libby ran to the twins and inspected them. “Did they hurt you?”

They looked confused. “Jail is boring,” Franny said.

“Yes it is—all more reason not to end up here.”
Like your father.
“Now please tell Mommy what happened?”

Zooey answered, “Daddy took us to see Santa, but then that mean man started chasing us.” She pointed at Boersch, which he took as a sign to leave the room.

Franny took over, “But then we found Santa, and got to try on video clothes. Daddy let us stay with him so he could do errands with the nice lady.”

“And this nice lady wanted to go with your daddy?”

“Daddy said he would keep her kids safe, and she wasn’t sure, but then Franny told them that Daddy always comes through. She said ‘you better be right’ and they left.”

“Just so we’re clear, your daddy didn’t
make
her go with him?”

They both shook their heads.

Next up was getting the version of events from Justin. They conferred for fifteen minutes before Falcone arrived and they moved the party to a table in the next room. Libby started right in on her offensive, “On what grounds are you holding my client?”

He played a video that showed Justin, dressed as Santa, tossing the Closs children over his shoulder and making off with them.

But it also showed another person that Libby knew all too well. Although, in hindsight, she didn’t really know her as well as she thought.

“My client claims he was keeping the children from Jacqueline Helada, who you mentioned in our earlier conversation as one of Stone Scroggie’s thugs. The video backs him up—she appears to be threatening the boy, wrapping something around his neck.”

“That’s what we are trying to get to the bottom of.”

“And of course, Ms. Helada was also taken into custody and questioned like my client?”

“I had to make a choice to go after one or the other—and I chose to save the children.”

“So where are these children you so
courageously saved?”

“They are with your ex-husband.”